#it’s going much slower than the first few times I read it
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I really need to catch up on op again
#I had like a whole depression where I didn’t read manga for like a year and a half#I’m at the beginning of the kaido fight lmao#but I’m silly so we rereading from the beginning#on thriller bark rn#it’s going much slower than the first few times I read it#it usually takes me like a week#now it’s taking like 5 months#one piece#gotta catch up before the live action#also there’s so many spoilers and I’m doing my best to avoid them but I think the anime has passed me#which sucks#but oh well
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how to start reading again
from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.
start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.
don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.
go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.
remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)
analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.
read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.
finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.
try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.
forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.
remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!
stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.
#louisa-gc#academia#studyblr#aesthetic#book#books#reading#read#advice#help#university#study#uni#library#bibliophile#it girl#that girl#habits#booktok#booktube#bookstagram
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Still Yours
idol!mingyu x fem!reader
Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪
Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.
Word Count: 5.1k
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(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)
The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.
It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.
Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.
You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.
But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.
Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.
The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.
This guy was a nobody.
One phone call and you’d have so much better.
The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.
But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.
You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.
But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.
Now you're texting him.
You: you awake?
________
Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.
No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.
The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.
Mingyu: nah, sleeping
You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.
You: call me
The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.
You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.
He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.
"Hi." He smiles.
"Hi," You grin.
You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.
"Where are you?" He asks first.
You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.
"At the club," You reply.
"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.
You shake your head. "Not really."
"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.
Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.
"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.
"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.
You smile. He remembers.
"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.
"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.
"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.
"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.
"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."
A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"
You nod. "You home?"
"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."
Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.
"Okay, I'll order a–"
"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."
______
You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.
“Hey love,” You say.
“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”
The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.
You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”
Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.
“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.
You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.
“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”
“Okay, I will.”
Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”
More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.
“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.
You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”
After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.
____
Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.
You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.
When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.
Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.
He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.
His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.
You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.
His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.
He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."
You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."
He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"
"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."
He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."
"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.
"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."
Oh my gosh. You hate him.
You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.
You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."
"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.
"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.
"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."
"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.
"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."
You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."
"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.
He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.
He leans in. "I missed you."
You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.
"I missed you too," You admit.
You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.
But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.
You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"
You nod. "I believe you did."
He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.
"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."
"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"
You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.
You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.
You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."
His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.
"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.
He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."
While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"
"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.
"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.
"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."
He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."
"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.
He pouts. "I can cook for you though."
"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."
You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.
You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.
He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."
You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.
He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.
The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.
He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.
"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."
"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.
"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.
You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.
______
When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.
Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.
He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."
He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty
"Where are your clothes?" He asks.
"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.
He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"
"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.
"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.
He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.
"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.
You grin. "Nope."
He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."
You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.
You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.
"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"
You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."
After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.
"Ready for bed?" He asks.
You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.
He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.
But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.
You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.
Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.
He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.
Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.
"Gyu," You breathe out.
"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.
He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.
"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."
You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."
His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.
You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.
"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.
You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–
"–You want my fingers?"
Fuck, he knows you so well.
You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.
"Use your words baby."
You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."
He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.
Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.
His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.
Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."
His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.
"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.
He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"
You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.
Oh?
His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"
"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."
You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.
He's ruined you.
That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.
Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.
It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.
But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.
He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.
He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.
But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.
He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.
Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."
It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.
His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.
You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."
"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.
You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."
He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"
"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.
He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.
His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.
You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.
You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."
He grins. "Okay, Shorty."
You tear open the packaging with your teeth.
"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"
You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.
He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."
You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.
When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.
"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.
"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."
"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."
His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."
His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.
He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.
The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.
"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."
"Hah-fuck," You cry out.
"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."
Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"
He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."
"Fuck! It's all yours."
It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.
"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.
You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.
Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.
Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.
You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.
Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.
His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.
His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.
His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.
You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"
"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.
He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.
It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.
So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.
So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.
___
After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.
His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.
You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."
His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.
"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."
"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."
You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.
"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"
A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."
You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.
_______________________________________________
© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen mingyu#kim mingyu#mingyu#mingyu fanfic#kim mingyu smut#mingyu smut#seventeen angst#mingyu angst#kpop
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SO AMERICAN! | where you meet tsukishima and—wow you are so american.
♫ – currently playing… olivia rodrigo
warnings – profanity, reader is learning japanese and is american if u couldnt tell! reader is called pretty
pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader
a/n – hashtag semi hiatus! anyways i was reading an ao3 fic while listening to this song and it sparked smth in me so enjoy! (did my research on culture shocks btw guys!!)
word count – 571
You’re smiling at him like you know him.
Tsukishima doesn’t know you. He’s just seen you for the first time when you walked into the gym–presumably to become the manager for the club next year.
It’s starting to worry him, you haven’t been properly introduced, only your eyes have met a few times, yet you don’t hesitate to smile every time you make contact.
You’re not in the same class. But he can tell by your mannerisms that you’re a foreign student. You talk a little louder than most, and your Japanese is accented but not enough where he can’t understand.
He knows he’s spot on when you go to greet Daichi with a handshake, he can see you firmly grip his hand which catches him off guard.
Y/n. That’s your name.
It’s a pretty name he admits to himself, you’re a pretty girl so it fits. He doesn’t acknowledge that–or tries not to.
You’re standing in front of the whole team being introduced to everyone, waving and smiling like you’re old friends.
He can see from his peripheral vision when they all bow that you’re unsure of what to do. You awkwardly tilt your body down too, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.
It’s cute.
He’s disgusted by himself, he thinks that something is up with him.
Shaking his head, he starts his warmups.
He tries not to keep his eye on you, but he can’t help it.
You’re holding a clipboard now, there's a paper on it he can’t see, but he can tell by your furrowed brows that you’re still struggling a bit with reading.
Making an excuse for himself, he walks up to where his water bottle–luckily right next to where you are, turns around and takes a sip of it. He’s standing right next to you now, reading the same paper as him.
Your eyes scan left to right on the paper, he laughs.
Whipping your head over, you ask, “Is something wrong?”
“Right to left, we read right to left.” He speaks a little slower than his usual pace—hoping you wouldn’t be offended.
You aren’t a smile grows on your face instead. “Oh my gosh–I was wondering what was wrong this whole time!” You laugh at yourself, thanking him quietly before restarting, eyes moving right to left this time.
“You’re so american.” He mutters, a chuckle comes out of him as he says it.
“Is that a compliment?” You ask, the paper is discarded now, your full attention is on him.
“Whatever you want it to be.”
You roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder with no real force behind it, “Whatever Kei.”
He doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve called him Kei instead of his surname. He brushes it off as another mistake, you’re new to the country after all.
Later he hears you complimenting “Kageyama and Hinata”, your voice is still louder than what a normal student speaks, and you’re gushing about their skills, to their faces. But then he looks over at you, and you two make eye contact.
He almost misses how you wink at him, it's a teasing one but it still makes his heart flutter. Then as quickly as you looked over, you looked away, a bright smile present on your face while you talked to his other teammates.
It’s definitely not fair of you to make him feel this much. Because he might just fall in love.
yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
#yenqa’s works!#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu au#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu texts#haikyuu fic#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu smau#tsukishima smau#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x you#tsukishima texts#tsukishima kei fluff#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima au#tsukishima fic#tsukishima kei#tsukishima imagine#haikyuu tsukishima
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Mornings
quinn hughes x fem!reader
WARNING - SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, basically smut with no plot
summary - quinn wakes up with a need to go slow n steady
notes - i have officially launched into writing for quinn and there’s no turning back now. i hope this is at least decent bc when it comes to writing smut, i feel like i’m always being too repetitive and not descriptive enough, so don’t yell at me if it’s bad 🫣. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always, happy reading!! 🫶🏼
request - soft morning sex with quinn
[2.3k]
Quinn has always been a morning person. He loves the feeling of being up before the sun, feeling like he has the world to himself. He loves being able to sneak out for a quick run, getting back in time to cook breakfast and make your coffee before you wake up. Sometimes he even loves just sitting beside of you as you sleep, reading or going over plays that he knows they’ll be working on in practice that day.
This morning? This morning he wants none of that. This morning he woke up to the sun peeking through the curtains of your shared room, way later than he intended, with one thing on his mind.
Forget a run, forget breakfast, forget hockey. All Quinn wanted this morning was you.
Last night the two of you attended a party hosted by the team at the rink. A fundraiser for some charity he can’t even remember at the moment.
What he can remember is the way you looked in your dress last night. From the second you walked out of your large walk-in closet yesterday, he wanted nothing more than to see the dress draped across the floor, but a few too many old fashions throughout the night caused an instant crash as soon as his head hit his pillow when the two of you got home last night.
His body very obviously didn’t forget how he felt last night, though. Which is very apparent right now.
Your body is slotted perfectly into his, his arms entrapping you and holding you as close to his body as he can. Even though you’re facing away from him, he can tell you’re not awake yet, your breaths steady and even. The observation made him think about having you just like that, slow and steady.
Readjusting his position, trying give a little relief to his aching dick, he hears your sharp inhale.
“Quinn, I haven’t even opened my eyes yet and you’re already horny and ready to go,” you grumble out, still half asleep.
Quinn lets out a low chuckle. “What can I say, baby? Can’t stop thinking about how good you looked last night.”
He brings his face down to give a light kiss to the back of your neck, bringing an arm up to move your sleep tousled hair over your shoulder.
You sigh at the feeling of his warm lips on your skin as they move away from your neck and down to your newly exposed shoulder.
Involuntarily, you scoot back to press your ass into him, causing a groan to ring out around you two.
“Don’t tease me now, baby, s’not nice,” he mumbles against your skin.
“Who says I’m teasing? Maybe I saw something I liked last night too,” you turn your body around to face him, hooking a leg over his hips, bringing your core closer to his.
His eyes lock onto yours, searching for any hint that you’re teasing him.
When he sees nothing but desire in your eyes, he closes the space between your lips, capturing yours in a searing kiss.
He grinds against you, tangling his hands in your hair. When he tries to deepen the kiss, you pull back in protest.
“I haven’t even brushed my teeth, let me go at least brush them before we do this,” you try to untangle yourself from his body, but his grip on you tightens, preventing you from moving further away.
“Not important,” he tells you, bringing you back in for another kiss.
This kiss was much slower than the first, the two of you simply savoring each other.
“Wanna take m’time with you,” Quinn mumbles against your lips, removing his hand from your hair to slip the strap of your silk tank top off of your shoulder.
Your response was a content sigh, feeling his hand slip under your tank top to fondle your breast.
“Just take it off, Q” you whisper, wanting the fabric gone.
He breaks the kiss long enough to remove your clothing, pressing his bare skin against your own.
You shift your position, laying your back flat on the bed and pulling him to hover over you.
Quinn lifts his head up, admiring your body, nothing but love in his eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, you know that? Don’t know how I ever got so lucky,” he speak softly, bringing a hand up to caress your stomach.
His words still make you blush, even after all this time. You move to bring your hands up to hide your flushed face.
“Nuh uh, no hiding that pretty face. Wanna see it always. Never wanna look at anything else,” he tells you, grabbing both of your hands in his large one, bringing them up to rest above your head. “Keep them there f’me, yeah?”
He trails the same hand down your body for a second time, this time letting it travel all the way down to the waistband of your shorts.
You gasp as he slides his hand under the waistband, his long fingers making contact with your clit.
“Especially wanna see your face when I’m doing this,” he slides his fingers down further, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. “God you’re soaking, baby. Guess I’m not the only one who woke up feeling needy.”
You inhale sharply, your mouth forming an ‘o’ when he slips a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out lazily.
“Can’t help it. You looked incredible in your suit last night. Even had a dream about it,” you gasped out, itching to thread your fingers through his hair, but keeping them above your head like he asked.
Quinn lets out a groan when he feels you clench around his fingers, bringing his thumb up to rub slow circles on your clit.
He notices your hands twitching as you squirm, deciding he wants to feel your hands on him.
“You can move your hands, pretty girl. Since you’re behaving so good,” he tells you as he adds another finger.
The second the words leave his mouth your hands are in his hair, tangling and twisting the strands around your fingers.
The strokes of his fingers are slow and steady, the pace driving you wild.
“Q, I need you. Need more,” you beg him.
“Uh-uh, told you I wanted to take my time with you. Need you to come nice and slow from my fingers before I give you anything else,” he picks up the pace just slightly.
You whine in protest, wanting to feel him.
Quinn circles your clit faster, but keeps the slow pace of his fingers. The contrast of the two paces causes the familiar knot to form deep in your stomach.
You remove one of your hands from Quinn’s hair to toy with your nipple, the added stimulation inching you closer and closer to your orgasm.
“There we go, get yourself there pretty girl,” Quinn rasps out, enjoying the sight of you underneath him.
His words aid in your impending release, always loving how vocal he is during sex.
He feels you clench around his fingers again, knowing you’re close to exploding.
“C’mon, just let go for me, baby. Show me how much you enjoy my fingers,” is all Quinn has to say before you’re seeing stars.
Your orgasm doesn’t match the slow motion of his fingers, your legs shaking as he rides you through the aftershocks.
Quinn removes his fingers from you, fully sitting up on his knees and bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean. The sight makes you fear another orgasm without even being touched.
As you lay there and recover for a few seconds, all you can think about is how badly you want to feel his dick inside of you.
“Please, Q, need to feel you inside of me,” you whine out, causing him to chuckle at your desperation.
“Well, who am I to deny a pretty girl what she wants?” he responds, lowering himself down to press a light kiss to your lips, moving a strand of hair out of your face.
You bring both hands up to rest on his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss, trying to show him just how badly you want him.
He meets your kiss with just as much enthusiasm, moving his hands to remove your shorts and underwear altogether.
You kick the pieces of clothing off of your feet, removing your hands from his neck to help him remove his own.
Once you’re both completely bare, you reach a hand down between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his hard dick, giving it a few strokes.
Quinn’s hips involuntarily buck forward, driving his cock further into your closed fist.
“Slow down, pretty girl. Told you I wanted to take my time with you. Won’t last if you keep touching me like this,” he grunts out, trying to keep some form of self-control.
He removes your hand from himself, replacing it with his own. He nudges your legs apart, bringing a finger to your entrance once again, collecting the arousal still dripping from you and spreading it around the tip of his dick, closing his eyes and shuddering at the feeling of your wetness on him.
“Remember, baby, slow and steady wins the race,” Quinn tells you as he guides himself into you inch by inch.
You cry out at the feeling, still sensitive from your first orgasm only minutes ago.
“Shit, you’re so tight. Always so tight,” Quinn hisses out, teeth clenched.
“Oh my god, Q, you feel so good. Needed this, needed you,” you whine, feeling every ridge and vein as he sets the torturous pace.
He brings his arms up to rest on either side of your head, going full missionary this morning.
Quinn pulls out completely each time before pushing back in, reminding himself with every stroke that he’s supposed to be going slow and savoring you.
“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this. Swear I’d stay here forever. Spend every second of every day between your legs like this. With my dick, my fingers, my mouth,” he tells you, earning a moan from you when you feel him twitch inside of you.
The slow, languid pace of his thrusts allows him to feel you in a way he’s usually too impatient for. He finds the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you, earning a moan that almost causes him to lose his composure.
“God, baby, can’t be making those noises like that. Gonna make me lose it,” he tells you, bringing a hand down to toy with your clit once again.
“Can’t help it. Feels too good. Need you to move faster,” you plead, loving the slowness but aching for relief.
He lowers his head, placing hot, open mouth kisses to your neck, keeping his current rhythm.
“Can’t. Enjoying this too much,” he mumbles against your damp skin.
Despite his words, you can feel him lose himself a bit, his thrusts getting just a little faster and sloppier.
All of a sudden he pulls out of you completely, removing his body from over yours. Up until this moment your eyes had been closed, but they snap open at the loss of contact.
Quinn sees your wide eyes and can practically see the whine of protest on your tongue, but he quickly brings himself to lay beside of you, pulling your body back into his.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl, just switching positions for a second,” he explains, lining himself up to your entrance once again, thrusting into you from behind as you lay on your side, opening yourself up to him with a leg slung over his own.
He keeps his same, slow strokes, but the new angle causes him to hit a place you’ve never known to exist until this moment.
“Swear I can feel you in my stomach, Q. Don’t stop. I’m so close,” you tell him, already feeling the coil tighten for the second time this morning.
The clench of your walls around his dick from this angle causes his balls to tighten, his own orgasm quickly approaching.
“Need you to let go before I can, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me, think you can get there again?” he kisses the back of your neck.
Meeting his thrusts, you reach behind you to grab his hand and bring it over to stimulate your clit, needing some relief on the throbbing bundle of nerves.
Quinn presses his fingers down on your clit, hard, causing the bubble to burst inside of you, coming harder than you even had the first time.
“Oh my god, Q, I-“ you get cut off by your own moans, unable to prevent your body from shaking, his fingers still moving on your clit, intensifying the release even further.
The clench of your spent pussy nearly prevents him from pulling his dick out of you to thrust back in, causing such a pleasurable feeling it trigger his own orgasm, hitting him harder than he think he’s ever come before.
His body goes rigid, freezing inside of you with a groan. As you start to come down from your own orgasm, the feeling of his release inside of you brings a new wave of pleasure, knowing you’re the only person that gets to experience this from him.
He stays lodged inside of you long after you’ve both come down from your highs, wanting to stay as close to you as he can possibly be.
You let your fingers stroke the arm that’s slung over your frame, his large hand resting against your stomach.
After a few more minutes he finally slides himself out of you, turning your body to face him, assuming your earlier positions.
He stares at you, admiring the post sex glow on your face with the sun shining through the curtains behind you.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask him, wrapping a piece of his hair around your finger, playing with the small curls around his ears.
“How much I love mornings,” he gives you the cheesy line, causing you to laugh so hard you shake the entire bed, causing a large grin to break out on his face, looking forward to spending every morning for the rest of his life with you.
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes one shot#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagine#vancouver canucks#hughes brothers#qh43#hockey smut#hockey fic#hockey imagine#hockey#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
#writing advice#rambling#first drafts#gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster#feel like ive a ways to go yet#horror journeyman maybe
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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lay your love on me — nanami kento.
You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?” He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.” “Well,” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face, “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.” “And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead,” you announced with a grin.
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, possessive behaviour, protectiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader petitions for nanami to be her house husband;
WORD COUNT: 5.4k words.
NOTE: i hope this makes up for the fact that i've been writing a lot of angsty fics. this was supposd to be a baywatch thing. but i changed my mind. anyway, i'll be doing the side - 900 works in advance. i hope you enjoy this!!! from this point, i might be slower in updating because i'll be back to uni again and probably will be a little bit more busy. thank you for reading and always enjoy this one too!!! i love you <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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HE’S NOT PROUD OF THE MAN HE’S BECOME. But it’s hard for him, when it comes to you, his precious wife. Nanami Kento had always considered himself above petty emotions like jealousy. He was calm, rational, the kind of man who could look at the world with a level head.
Yet, ever since he met you, ever since he’s fallen for you, built his life, his universe about you — his life had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. You brought out something in him that was unfamiliar and unsettling—a possessiveness, an insecurity that gnawed at him whenever he saw the way others looked at you.
As he sat next to you on the sun-kissed beach, the warm Malaysian sunbathing you both in a golden glow, Nanami Kento found it difficult to fully relax. This was supposed to be your quality time, the belated honeymoon you both had both worked so hard to carve out from your hard and demanding schedules. For once, he had managed to take time off from his life as a sorcerer, a rare break that was meant to be a celebration of your love, their commitment to each other.
You were just as busy as he was, if not more. As a lawyer, you were brilliant, successful, and independent. You made more than he did, something that had never bothered him—until now. Not because of pride, but because it made him realize just how much you had to offer. You could have anyone, and yet you had chosen him. The thought should have been reassuring, but instead, it only added to his insecurity.
Instead of peace, he found himself caught up in a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t just his possessiveness—it was the realization that, for the first time in his life, he was vulnerable. He was vulnerable because he loved you so deeply, because the thought of losing you, or of someone else taking your attention, filled him with a fear he didn’t know how to handle.
Kento couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you lay on the sunbed, basking in the warm Malaysian sun. The way the golden rays kissed your skin, making it glow, had him utterly captivated. You were wearing the tightest two-piece bikini, a vibrant floral design that contrasted beautifully against your sun-kissed skin. The colors brought out the vibrancy of your figure, accentuating every curve in a way that made his heart race.
He watched as you stretched languidly, your body moving with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly to him. The sunlight danced across your skin, highlighting the delicate contours of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your waist, the length of your legs.
Every inch of you was perfection in his eyes, and it drove him mad how stunning you were. But it wasn’t just your physical beauty that had him so entranced; it was the knowledge that you were his, that this incredible, breathtaking person had chosen him.
His gaze lingered on your face, where a peaceful smile played on your lips, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The gentle breeze teased a few strands of your hair, brushing them across your forehead, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He loved these quiet moments, where he could just watch you, memorize the way you looked in the golden light, the way the sun turned your hair into a halo of warmth.
You were the most beautiful being to ever exist to him, and the thought made his chest tighten with a mix of pride and disbelief. How had he been so fortunate? What had he done to deserve someone like you in his life?
The longer he watched you, the more he felt that familiar, possessive edge creeping in. It was a feeling he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, one that he had never experienced before you came into his life. He had never thought of himself as the jealous type, but when it came to you, something primal and protective stirred within him. He didn’t want anyone else to look at you the way he did, to see what he saw, to appreciate the way you made the world a brighter, more beautiful place just by existing.
And yet, as he sat there, he knew that others couldn’t help but notice you too. It was impossible not to. You were radiant, magnetic, and he could see the way people’s gazes lingered on you, the appreciative looks that followed you whenever you walked by. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to do something irrational, to pull you close and stake his claim in front of everyone.
Kento could see the way men’s eyes lingered on you, the admiration in their gazes as they took in your beauty. It made his blood boil in a way he wasn’t proud of. He wanted to stand up, to make it clear that you were his, that no one else had the right to look at you like that. But he stayed silent, gripping your hand a little tighter, hoping the feeling would pass.
You opened your eyes, and your gaze met his. The smile that spread across your face was one of pure love, your eyes softening as you looked at him. In that moment, all his insecurities melted away. You were his, and he was yours. It was as simple as that.
Kento leaned back in his chair, his own smile tugging at his lips as he continued to watch you. You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, your expression playful as you caught him staring.
“See something you like?” you teased, your voice light and full of affection.
“Always, my love.” he replied, his voice deep and sincere. His gaze never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the intensity of his feelings reflected in his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”
Kento couldn’t help but grin at that, though his expression quickly turned serious again. “It drives me mad, you know,” he admitted, his voice low. “How beautiful you are. How you’re mine.”
The way he said it, with such raw emotion, made your heart flutter. There was something in his tone, something almost possessive, that sent a shiver down your spine. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. If anything, it made you feel even closer to him, knowing that he felt so deeply for you.
“And you’re mine.” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. The simple touch seemed to calm him, his fingers threading through yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Your eyes narrowed on him. “Only mine.”
And then there was your possessiveness. You couldn’t deny it—you were just as bad as he was when it came to jealousy. You tried to play it cool, but the truth was, you were no better at hiding it than he was. The moment you noticed the women stealing glances at him, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, his chiseled features, you felt a wave of irritation wash over you.
It was subtle, but Kento could sense the tension in you, the way your posture stiffened, the way you shifted closer to him, almost instinctively, as if to stake your claim. You wanted the world to know that this man was yours and yours alone.
Just as it does now.
Because if you were being honest, your husband was the most beautiful man in the world. With his muscular build and tall six-foot frame, he was the epitome of masculine perfection. The way his long, muscular arms held that beer bottle in his massive palm, the casual strength in his grip, made your heart flutter. His chiseled jaw tightened as he glanced in the direction of the men who had dared to look your way, his bright brown eyes narrowing in a clear, unmistakable warning. He didn’t have to say a word—the message was loud and clear: stay away.
You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. This man belonged to you, and he wanted everyone to be sure that they knew it. There was something undeniably satisfying about the way he made it so obvious, so deliberate. And you knew that he felt the same way about you.
His gaze flicked back to you, softening when he saw the look in your eyes. It was a look that said, “I’m yours.” and it made your heart swell with love and possessiveness all over again.
You didn’t care if it was irrational, if it was a little bit crazy—this man was yours, and you were his. And you wanted everyone to know that you belonged to each other, that nothing and no one could come between you.
Kento must have sensed your thoughts, because he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You know you’re the only one I see, right?”
His voice was deep, reassuring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, babe." you whispered back, your fingers curling around his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath his skin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure everyone else knows it too.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper, something more primal. “Good.” he said, his tone possessive and full of promise. “Because I’m not about to let anyone forget that you’re mine either.”
You grinned at that, the fiery possessiveness in his words matching your own. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that neither of you would ever let anyone come between what you had. Because you both knew that what you had was rare, precious, and worth protecting at all costs.
As you stood there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. This beautiful, strong, and fiercely loyal man was yours. And you were his.
You pressed a kiss to his jaw, savoring the way he responded, the way his arm tightened around you just a little bit more. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you felt for him, everything you both felt for each other. This man belonged to you, and you belonged to him. And nothing in the world could change that.
It was a strange sort of dance, the two of you caught in a loop of possessiveness that neither could quite break free from. And yet, there was something oddly reassuring about it. In a world where you both faced so many uncertainties, where danger lurked around every corner, this shared jealousy was a reminder that you were both fiercely committed to each other. It wasn’t healthy, Kento knew that, but it was real. Even if you weren’t proud of it, even if Kento wasn’t proud of it — it was real. Between the two of you. It was love for you.
Still, the women’s gazes hadn’t wavered, you noticed. Their eyes still linger on your husband as if they had every right to admire him. The sight made your blood simmer, a protective, possessive streak flaring to life within you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kento—he was as loyal as they came—but you didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at him, as if he were something to be desired, something they could claim if they tried hard enough.
Your grip on his hand tightened as you leaned closer and you cast a glance in his direction. Kento, ever composed, was doing his best to ignore the attention, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered to you as if seeking reassurance. He puts away the beer bottle on the side and looks to you again.
A grin slowly spread across your lips as an idea formed. If those women wanted to look at your husband, you’d give them something to see—a clear, undeniable reminder that he was yours. You leaned in, your hand resting on his chest as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.
Kento looked down at you, a question in his eyes, but before he could ask, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a hot, passionate kiss. The world around you faded as you poured all your love, your possessiveness, your desire into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a statement. A declaration that this man, this incredible, strong, loyal man, was yours. And no one else had any right to him. He only belongs to you. Only you.
Kento’s initial surprise melted away as he responded in kind, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, pulling you even closer. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body relaxed into yours as if nothing else mattered. Kento’s arms slowly wrap around the small of your back, kissing you even deeper.
When you finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the effect it had on him, the way his eyes had darkened with desire, the small, satisfied smile that tugged at his lips. You glanced over at the women who had been ogling him earlier. Their expressions had shifted—some were embarrassed, others annoyed, but all of them had gotten the message loud and clear.
Triumph surged through you as you turned back to Kento, your grin widening. “I think they got the point, babe.” you whispered, your voice teasing.
Kento chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your lips as if to savor the moment. “I believe they did.” he murmured, his tone filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. “Though I must admit, I didn’t mind that at all.”
“Then…..can we continue this upstairs?”
Your husband’s eyes narrow, almost awakening something in him. “What do you have in mind?”
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YOU DON’T THINK YOU WOULD EVER GET TIRED OF HIM. Nanami Kento always made you feel so many things—desire, love, passion—and you loved every bit of it. The tension between you had been building ever since that heated kiss on the beach, and as you made your way back to your hotel room, it only grew stronger.
Each step, each shared glance, every subtle touch added fuel to the fire burning between you. The anticipation was electric, and by the time you reached the door, it was like a dam waiting to burst.
The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the restraint you’d both been holding onto snapped. You pressed yourself against him, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that had your head spinning. It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t close the gap between you fast enough. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.
The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more desperate, as you both succumbed to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you back toward the bed as he claimed your mouth over and over again, each kiss more intense than the last.
You could feel his desire, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the low growl that rumbled in his chest as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. The moment the fabric hit the floor, his lips were back on yours, his hands working to free you from your bikini. The way he touched you, with a mix of reverence and raw need, sent shivers down your spine. He breaks the kiss.
“Kento, Kento….” you breathed finally, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini, and the sensation of the cool air against your bare skin only heightened the intensity of the moment.
He leaned back for just a moment, his gaze sweeping over you with a look of pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re perfect, my love.” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, before his lips were back on yours, more insistent this time, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.
Your hands found their way to the waistband of his beach shorts, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed them down, the fabric pooling at his feet. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hard, muscular frame pressed against you, and it sent a rush of heat straight to your core.
The bed hit the back of your knees, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the soft sheets, Kento following you down, his body covering yours in an instant. The weight of him, the feel of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. He presses his lips against yours again, the heat between your bodies burning you even more.
You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he was trying to memorize you all over again. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, the heat of him throbbing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your body.
His lips left yours, trailing down your neck once again and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. The feeling of his mouth on your skin, combined with the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, was almost too much to bear.
“Kento, babe.” you gasped, your voice breaking as he found that sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin there in a way that made you arch against him, desperate for more. “It’s so….it’s so hot.”
“Tell me what you want, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with need.
“You.” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. “I want you, Kento.”
The way he responded, with a deep, guttural groan, sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. It was as though he found home again. You groaned as you felt his hands explore the exposed skin. He was enjoying this, you knew. He enjoyed teasing you.
“God, Kento.” you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. He was driving you wild, his touch lighting you up in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You needed more, needed him closer, needed to feel him in every possible way..
You could feel him pressing against you, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that was just as intense as before. It was almost too much, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours, the way his hands moved with such skill and tenderness, the way every inch of him seemed to be in tune with your needs.
The anticipation was building, the need for him becoming overwhelming as you felt his fingers deftly undo the last of your bikini top. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between the two of you. You could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs, the desperate longing for him growing with each passing second.
Kento’s touch was everything—gentle and firm, demanding and patient all at once. The way he handled you, the way he made you feel, it was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to give it to you. He liked to give you more and more, to satiate your greed.
Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt both familiar and electrifyingly new. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of sheets, and the occasional, intoxicating moans that slipped from your lips as Kento's hands roamed over your bare skin.
His touch was a maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, each caress lighting a fire inside you that grew with every passing moment. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the softness of thighs, lingering just long enough to make you gasp before moving on. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his lips followed the path of his hands, kissing and nipping at every sensitive spot he could find.
You arched your back as his mouth moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone before trailing down to your chest. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him on.
Kento responded with a low growl, the sound vibrating against your skin as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body reacting with a surge of heat that pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness there, the way your body was aching for him, and you knew that he could feel it too.
His hands slid down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips before dipping between your thighs. The first touch of his fingers against your slick heat made you cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily as you pressed yourself against his hand. He moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you with light, feathery touches that only made your desire grow stronger.
You could feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost unbearable as he continued to tease you. His fingers slipped between your folds, stroking you with a skill that had your head spinning. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body trembling with anticipation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. One after another, it was a pandemonium of pleasure. When you came, you sobbed as you felt his fingers tighten against your crevices.
“Kento, babe. Please.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, I need you.”
He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. There was something primal in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, and that knowledge sent a thrill of excitement through you.He removed his fingers, licking them clean one after another, enjoying the taste of you. The sight of him made you even more wet.
“What do you want, my love?” He cooed at you. “Where do you want me?”
“Inside, Kento.” You muttered, your eyes beaming with pleasure. “Please, babe. Please.”
He didn’t make you wait any longer, his dear love. With a practiced ease, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he guided himself to your entrance. The tip of his cock brushed against your swollen folds, and you could feel the heat of him, the way his length stretched you as he slowly pushed inside.
The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely making you gasp for air. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you.
Kento moved with deliberate, measured thrusts, each one sending a wave of ecstasy through your body that made your vision blur. He was gentle but firm, his pace steady as he worked to bring you both to the peak of pleasure. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he stretched you, filled you, in a way that made you feel utterly complete.
Your moans filled the room, each one growing louder as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a growing urgency. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound almost drowned out by the symphony of your lovemaking. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the familiar pressure building as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.
“Kento, I’m… I’m so close, babeeeeee!” you breathed out, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of a powerful release that you could feel building inside you like a storm.
“Let go, love.” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough with desire. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”
His words were all you needed. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last.
Kento followed you into bliss, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release overtaking him. You could feel the warmth of him spilling into you, the way his body trembled against yours as he groaned your name, his voice thick with emotion.
For a moment, the world stood still. All you could feel was him, all you could hear was the sound of your racing hearts and the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. He stayed inside you, his body pressed against yours as you both came down from the high, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.
Slowly, he pulled out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was quickly replaced by the warmth of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you close, holding you against his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.
“I love you, love.” he whispered, his voice soft and full of sincerity. “So much.”
“I love you too, babe.” you murmured back, your voice barely above a whisper. Your body was spent, completely exhausted from the intensity of your lovemaking, but you felt content, safe, and utterly cherished in his arms.
As you lay there together, his arms tighten around you as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, with the warmth of his body against yours and the sound of the waves crashing outside, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, for as long as you both lived.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
epilogue
Later that evening, after the intensity of your earlier moments had faded into a comfortable, blissful haze, you found yourself curled up against Kento’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. You sighed, almost as though you were the most content in your entire life.
He’d already made sure to take care of you and clean you up, even making you some tea so that you could relax on your shared bed. And you love him for it. He always spoils you to no end. The sound of the waves outside your window was a soothing backdrop, lulling you into a state of utter contentment.
As you lay there, a thought popped into your mind, one that made you grin mischievously. You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.
“Kento, babe.” you began, your tone teasing, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Hm?” He glanced down at you, his expression warm and relaxed, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
You bit your lip to keep from grinning as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?”
He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.”
“Well, babe.” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.”
“And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead.” you announced with a grin.
There was a moment of silence as Kento processed what you’d just said. His usually stoic expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to determine whether or not you were serious. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and it only made it harder for you to hold back your laughter. He looked cute, when he's thinking, you like to believe.
“A… house–husband?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the word out on his tongue.
“Yes! A house–husband, babe.” you confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “You’d be amazing at it! You could cook, clean, and take care of everything at home while I go to work. And you’d never have to worry about exorcisms or curses or any of that dangerous stuff ever again.”
Kento blinked at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, then closing again as he reconsidered. Finally, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “And what would I do all day at your house–husband?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d find plenty to do, babe.” you replied, barely able to keep a straight face. “You could perfect your cooking skills, learn how to fold the perfect fitted sheet, maybe even take up knitting! Plus, you’d have plenty of time to dote on me when I come home from work. Maybe even meet the old ladies at the corner store! They really like zumba, just as much as you do.”
At that, Kento let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Knitting, huh? I didn’t realize that was part of the job description.”
“Well, it’s optional.” you conceded with a giggle. “But I think you’d be really good at it.”
Kento shook his head, clearly amused by your antics. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious.” you replied, though the twinkle in your eyes betrayed your true intentions. “I mean, think about it. No more dangerous missions, no more fighting curses. Just a quiet, peaceful life at home with me. Grow old together and me spoiling my husband with bringing in the dough and you spoiling me with all your love. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
He considered it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “It does sound nice.” he admitted, his tone still teasing. “But I’m not sure how I’d feel about giving up my job to become a… house–husband.”
“Oh, come on.” you coaxed, poking him playfully in the ribs. “You’d love it. And I’d love coming home to you every day. Plus, you’d look really cute in an apron.”
That finally did it. Your husband Kento burst out laughing, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. You couldn’t help but join in, your own laughter mingling with his as you both imagined the ridiculousness of the idea. But you suppose the ridiculousness of it is what made it so touching. Life is always strange anyway, you think. And he knows that too.
When the laughter finally subsided, Kento leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate the thought.” he said, his voice full of affection. “But for now, I think I’ll stick to being a sorcerer for now. Though I have to admit, the idea of being your house–husband is tempting.”
“Tempting enough to reconsider?” you asked with a grin, though you knew his answer.
“Not quite, love.” he replied, chuckling. “But I’ll keep it in mind as a backup plan.”
“Deal.” you agreed, snuggling closer to him. “But just so you know, I’m not giving up on the idea entirely. You’d make an excellent house–husband. Mine only, of course.”
Kento smiled down at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “And you’d make an excellent lawyer who brings home the bacon.”
“Then it’s settled.” you said, laughing. “We’ll just have to make sure you stay safe so I don’t have to resort to plan B.”
“With you by my side, love? I have no doubt I will.” he murmured, kissing you softly as you both settled back into the peaceful, contented silence of the evening.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami#kento#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#kento x reader#kento x y/n#kento x you#kento nanami smut#nanami smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk fluff
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Bad and better days
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
In which reader is stressed and Hotch is a gift giver.
Lots and lots of fluffy fluf (I’ll proofread later)
Very much inspired by @mariasont s ABSOLUTELY AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL bimbo assistant series that i literally can’t get enough of. If you even remotely enjoy this fic go read hers” series, and if you don’t like this fic, go read her other stuff. It’s worth it I promise!!!
“Sir!” You were practically a blur of pink as you run up to him, well, run as much as you can in your heels.
“Y/N, hi, what on earth could be this worrying-“ he checks his watch “-two minutes before the work day starts” he chuckles softly, an occurrence that seems to become less and less uncommon when you’re around.
“Well, sir, I was filing papers and I got a call- well you got a call which means I got a call which means I walked away from papers and when I stood up they fell on the floor and they’re time sensitive and-“ he cuts you off with gentle hands on your shoulders.
“Y/N do you need me to help you reorganize paperwork?” He asks, smiling softly at your frantic nodding. “Alright, lead the way, slower this time maybe?” He jokes, you laugh, he does his best to memorize the sound (not that he doesn’t already know it by heart). “Yes sir” you nod, turning to walk back to his office. And it really was just one file you’d knocked off the desk, but it wasn’t case paperwork that you could’ve easily picked up and reorganized, it was paperwork for Strauss, detailing a week worth of work in the bureau, along with staff ratings and a couple legal documents.
“I hope you know that this is not at all an inconvenience to me, we all make mistakes, if the biggest slip up this week is an unorganized file, I think we’d have to throw a party” he says, laughing softly, you do the same, the tension falling from your shoulders. “Yea, well, I was nervous to greet you with a screw up” you say, he puts down the papers to look at you.
“Y/N, you’re an amazing assistant, you’re great at your job and the million other things you do far outside of your obligations, this office wouldn’t function without you, I wouldn’t function without you, this-“ he taps the folder “-doesn’t even register as a screw up. Having to turn around the jet last week because Morgan forgot his phone? That was a screw up. JJ emailing a random cop witness statements from an unrelated case? That’s a screw up. You dropping a file? That’s not even a minor inconvenience. You’re alright.” His voice goes back to his normal tone at the end, but the gentleness is still very much there. He’d taken note of your stress the last few days. You’d clearly overworked yourself, something he knew would happen eventually. He was worried.
“Thank you, sir” you say softly.
“Aaron” he corrects. You must’ve looked like he asked you the square root of 43,862.
“I’m sorry?” You ask, your head dipping to the side
“Well I told you on your first day to call me Hotch, and you haven’t, so I’m seeing if telling you to call me Aaron will get you to tone down the formality.” He smiles. You laugh. He smiles harder.
“So should I call you Aaron or Hotch?” You ask, he shrugs.
“You can decide” his voice is even, but he can’t quite calm the grin still plastered to his lips.
“Alright, Aaron” you say, you feel like you broke some unspoken rule, but Hotch? He understands why sailors abandoned ship for sirens. He wants nothing more in that moment than to hear you say his name again.
But he just nods, going back to reorganizing papers. You pipe up with a question “should I go see if JJ has a case yet?”
“No, not yet, the work day started a few minutes ago, no need to rush her” he says, you nod.
“Should I-“ he cuts you off by putting his credit card down on the table. “You should go online and look for office supplies” he says, and once again, you look at him like a confused puppy.
“I talked to Strauss, we agreed that you do far too much around here to not have an office. It’s by no means extravagant, but I talked her into giving you the empty office” he says. You know exactly what he’s talking about, and it’s really not extravagant, it’s probably a little bit smaller than Penelope’s lair, but it’s right next to Hotch’s office and it’s big enough for a desk and a filing cabinet. You’re ecstatic.
“Really?!” You squeal, practically bouncing with excitement. “Really” he nods. You hug him, it’s awkward, you’re bent over to hug him while he sits. You don’t really mind, but Hotch wants to acknowledge your affection, so he stands and hugs you back. Wrapping his arms around you and gently rubbing your back. As you pull away you smile up at him.
“Thank you so much Aaron” you smile, he just nods to the card. “You’re very welcome, and get whatever you want for the office, don’t worry about the cost” he says, your eyes go wide.
“Oh no- I can’t. Really. I’d feel awful and-“ he cuts you off again.
“I mean it. Whatever. You. Want.” He says sweetly, but you protest again.
“I really can’t. I couldn’t.” You say, he nods “alright, send me what you like, if it’s not too much I’ll get it, then you can buy the rest, would that work?” He offers, you shake your head
“I can’t take your money-“ he once again, stops you. “It’s my final offer. I buy it all or I buy some. I want to do this for you” he says, you blush, he takes note. You nod.
“I’ll- uh- I’ll send you what I like” you say. He nods “good, you can start looking now if you’d like, I have to go talk to Rossi.” He says “don’t worry about anything else until we debrief alright? You’re officially on break.” He says, you nod. “Thank you. So much. For all of this” your sentence comes out in parts, like you’re building it once it’s already left your mouth. Hotch smiles. “Rest for a bit Y/N, you’ve more than earned it” he says as he leaves the office.
You have a nice, 20 minute break before the debrief. You get right back to business as usual, only adding in excited rambling on the jet too Spencer about how you plan to decorate your office, Hotch listened with a smile.
“Are you planning to eavesdrop on that poor girl the whole flight? Or are you just really interested in colored gel pens” Emily asks, tone teasing and sarcastic. Hotch rolls his eyes. “I have interests” he says, Emily grins. “Yea, you’re definitely interested in something” she says, Hotch laughs softly. “Maybe” he admits.
He knew that maybe was a definitely, so did Emily, but neither of them mention it. She drops the topic and he goes right back to listening in on you and Spencer.
The case goes by quickly. A less than 72 hour turn around. Hotch sends everyone home early when you get back. A small congratulations for a successful case. You, as always, stay behind when he does.
“Y/N, go home and rest” he says, you shake your head
“I’m fine to stay” you assure him, he won’t have it “you’ve been tired and stressed. Go home, rest, and come back tomorrow feeling a little better. That’s what I need from you.” He says it like an order, you honestly feel like you’ll get fired if you don’t go have a spa day. So you just nod. “Yes sir” you nod, putting down the files you were holding.
“Have a good night, Y/N” he says as you leave. “You too Aaron, head home at a good time, I’m sure Jack misses you”. He assures you he will. You nod and leave.
An hour later, you’re home, watching bad tv and eating take out, which absolutely counts as self care, when you get a text.
Hotch!: “Jack wanted me to tell you he says hi.”
You laugh and text back
-> “Awww!! Tell him I say hi back!!”
You don’t wait long for a response.
Hotch!: “He’s very excited to hear from you. Have you picked anything for your office?”
You smile
-> “I’ll have to babysit again sometime!!! And yes, here🙄 (but 4real, thank you so so so so much for paying. Absolutely don’t worry about anything thatz 2 expensive!!)” you text back, including an Amazon wishlist
The next day is normal. Completely average. No cases, no major drama. Just paperwork, random ramblings to Hotch about whatever is on your mind and gossip sessions in the bullpen. Good, but average.
Then the next day comes. And you squealed so loud that Derek thought he’d be on rat catching duty again. But nope, much better, you walked into Hotch’s office and were greeted with Amazon package after Amazon package.
Hotch smiled “I figured you’d be picky about how the office is set up, but I did come in early and set up your desk and filing cabinet.” You hugged him and probably thanked him a dozen times, excitedly rushing to Penelope’s office to get a decorating buddy.
He’d never admit this to you, but he confides in Rossi later that day that he never approved your office with Strauss, but he knew how happy it would make you, and he knew he wanted to be the reason you were that happy. He’d argue with his boss a million times to make you smile.
Your day was obviously above average, but Hotch’s was wonderful, just because he got to spend it watching you run back and forth with the biggest smile on your face. He knew he wanted you before, but now? God, he wanted to spend forever making you smile like that.
I pulled an all nighter and spent 2 hours in a haze writing this. I hope you like it!!!
Click here for more of my work
Please remember to reblog with feedback!!! It helps writers a lot and is how my work reaches more people!
#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#crimal minds
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18+ / mdi
content: fratboy!mingyu, same couple as this fic (can be read as a standalone tho), established relationship, mingyu is whipped as per usual, wonwoo's mentioned to be reader's brother, afab reader, smut, soft sex, riding, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1459
a/n: was so happy to hear ppl liked this couple :D here's a link to the main fic! i'll periodically write more lil drabbles for them so if u have any ideas my asks are open <3
masterlist
"g-gyu! i have to go. i cant keep being late!", you whined at him as he nuzzled his head into your neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.
it was yet another night you'd spent over at mingyu's frat. you were currently in bed with the man, pinned down by his strong arms.
despite having shared rooms with wonwoo before, mingyu had made a case to allow for him and wonwoo to have separate rooms, arguing that they'd been members of the frat for over a year by now and deserved some privileges due to seniority. fortunately for mingyu, his insistence was not met with much pushback, leading to wonwoo moving his things out and into one of the empty rooms in the frat about a week later. what the rest of frat members hadn't known however, was that mingyu's insistence was born purely out of his need to sneak you into his room night after night without having your brother get in the way.
he continued kissing at your neck without a single care in the world, still holding you against him, "baby, it's fine. i used to skip my freshman year all the time. they won't miss you."
"gyu! i wanna keep my gpa, ive been late three times this week. i'll be back in an hour, just be patient," you managed to unwrap yourself from him and wobble your way up, legs still weak from last night.
he dramatically groaned, allowing his back to flop onto the bed, "why do you hate me?"
jesus, he was so dramatic.
you sighed to yourself and approached him again, pulling at his hands to get him to sit up again. he let his body be limp, causing him to end up leaning against you once you'd pulled him all the way up. he took advantage of the angle and wrapped his arms against you once more, not pulling you against him this time but still keeping a light hold on you.
"stop being dramatic! we had sex last night! we'll have sex again today! just wait for me to get back, okay, baby?"
he chuckled at this, leaning up once more to try and kiss at you, "is it bad that i want you, baby?", he was teasing you, you could tell, "i've only had you to myself for a month. can you blame me for wanting you every day? i waited for years to have you, remember?", with this, he began to pull you towards him, easily getting you to straddle his legs on the bed.
"of ... of course not," you sighed out as his kisses became more and more sensual, now running his hands up and down your bare back.
you were too weak for him. you'd only managed to get off the bed for a few seconds, not even getting a single article of clothing on before he got you right back on his bed.
"so you'll let me take care of you, right baby?", he breathed against your ear, placing a playful bite on it as his hands lowered and lowered until landing on your ass, groping and toying with it. he instigated you, encouraging you to begin grinding against him at a slow and sensual tempo. everything felt slower in the early hours of the morning.
this was a common occurrence for you two ever since you'd first confessed your feelings for one another a little over a month ago. he'd expressed to you how badly he'd wanted you for years, knowing you'd only recently began to like him and wanting to give you time to process your feelings before confessing. but once you'd confessed, it led to endless time together. you were even more attached to the hip than you'd been as best friends, if that was even possible. with full support from both wonwoo and all your friends, you and mingyu had become inseparable, leading you to spend most of your nights being snuck into mingyu's frat.
you'd grown thirsty for each other, having had to hold back on your desires for each other for too long before growing to desperate and resulting in the night mingyu finally had you in his room a month ago. ever since then, mingyu had insisted on keeping you to himself day after day, just like last night, when he'd insisted you stay over (again) after having fucked you into the mattress late into the night.
the issue was, mingyu was a bit insatiable. even after that first night, even after being caught by wonwoo immediately after, he had insisted on fucking you again in the morning. just like now, as he managed to get you on your back again, legs spread as he laid his weight on top of you and ground his bare length against your folds.
you whined at him, wanting more than just friction. if he was gonna keep you from going to class, the least he could do was actually fuck you. you somehow managed to flip the gigantic man over (ok, he mightve let you do it ..), positioning yourself on top of him before lowering yourself on him.
"fuck! yeah, baby, that's it. such a good girl ..." he groaned upon feeling your walls close up around him. "gonna imprint my dick in you, baby. keep you all to myself," one thing about mingyu was his constant need to whisper filthy things in your ear as he made your eyes roll back.
he quickly took control of your hips, holding them down whenever he wanted to cant his hips upwards against yours, or sometimes simply guiding your hips to allow you to grind your clit against him at a speed that made your toes curl.
"g-gyu! shit! just like that!"
"right there, pretty? shit, is that the spot?", he took your whines as confirmation, beginning to ram his hips into yours even faster, lowering his hand between both of you in order to toy with your clit.
you threw your head back, feeling lightheaded at the way in he covered all bases of your pleasure, not only hitting your g spot consistently but also rubbing your clit at a tempo that had all air leaving your head. he was even at some points alternating between sucking your tongue into his mouth and lowering his head to lick and bite your boobs. in the very short period of time you'd been dating, mingyu had figured out everything you liked. every weak spot, he had dominated, knowing what brought you pleasure even better than yourself.
"'m gonna cum, fuck! don't stop!", you knew he didn't need any warning with how familiar he was with your body, but you just couldn't help but be vocal when around him.
"i know, pretty. cum for me, yeah? want you gushing all around me- shit! then ... then im gonna fill you up like a cute lil creampie. okay, baby?" he said this as he felt you tighten around him, a clear tell that you were seconds away from reaching ultimate bliss.
your orgasm triggered his, making him bury his head in your chest as you rode your high still tightly wrapped around him. even when you tried to unglue yourself from him, he kept you shoved against him for a few more seconds, lightly grinding against you for some extra stimulation despite how sensitive you both were after yet another intense orgasm shared between the two of you.
"shit .. it was worth it, wasn't it?", was his immediate response to you finally catching your breath.
"you're gonna make me flunk out of college," you deadpanned, not serious at all.
"good. that way i can keep you he-"
"can you guys shut the fuck up? i'm still sharing a wall with you, jesus christ," the sound of banging against the wall had interrupted you, wonwoo's voice cutting through.
the both of you remained silent for a minute, staring at each other with wide eyes.
"dude! you didn't tell me wonwoo was staying right next door!", you whisper-shouted, embarrassed your brother might've heard you.
"i didnt know he could hear us!", he whispered back. he got up and stuck his ear to the wall before speaking up again, at full volume this time, "how much did you hear?"
wonwoo waited a beat or two before you could hear his response through the wall.
"i put on my headphones every time i see you sneak her in. just go to her dorm, for fuck's sakes."
well, so much for not getting caught sneaking into the dorm past the allowed visitation hours.
mingyu hummed at this, turning to speak to you now.
"he kinda has a point, baby. how come i haven't fucked you in your dorm?"
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen scenarios#mingyu smut#svt scenarios#mingyu fic#mingyu imagine#mingyu fanfic#mingyu x reader#mingyu oneshot
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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 (hyung line)
W/T: explicit content (18+)
- short scenario for each member
- not proofread so sorry any mistakes
A/O: here's some hard thoughts of my fav men, maknae line will be uploaded soon! sorry if the hwa one isn't as long as the others, dragged away a little too much by the yeosang one 🤭
read here the maknae line
✩ 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠
He's never tried to make you uncomfortable by mentioning sexual stuff, he wanted you to do the first move so he'd be sure you want it. Can't deny that it was pretty difficult to hold your horses when your boyfriend is a fucking hot guy, his smirk always has a specific effect on you, you also touched yourself a couple times thinking of him, when he was at work. You were quite shy to propose it, but this morning, seeing his boner standing under the blanket got you over the edge, you surely want him and you gotta take what you crave for. You sit on his lap with him still asleep, how can he be so damn gorgeous without even trying? he's fucking sleeping and he still seems a work of art. You start to dry hump yourself against his crotch, your lower lip between your teeth trying to hold back your whimpers. He slightly opens his eyes at the sudden friction, he stretched his arms yawning lazily: "Y/n..." once he realizes what you were actually doing his eyes open wide, his heartbeat accelerating at the sight of you grinding over his hips. "Joong... wanna take you right now, pretty please" you lean over him to leave a small kiss on his lips, your hands caressing his neck. You smile when he giggles, his hands dragging down your body, while kissing you back. "Happy to have you getting rid of my erection, love"
✩ 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚
Your relationship with Seonghwa was intimate, private times with him never missed, and he also had seen you barely naked a few times, but still you had nothing more than cuddles sessions. You arrive at home at late night, after a date with your boyfriend. You're about to head towards the bathroom to took your makeup off and brush your teeth, when he comes from behind holding your hips still. He approaches your ear, his sweet low voice whispering: "We're not done yet, sweetie" you turn yourself and face him with a smirk: "Oh, what did we miss?" he gets closer to you, noses a couple of inches far. "gotta ruin your lipstick first" you take his hand and drag it down your body, going slower when on your chest and stopping when they are between you thighs, his hand is shaking, you can feel his heartbeat accelerating while squeezing his wrist: "What about ruining something else?" he murmurs a small "fuck" before kissing you on your collarbone, biting your skin slightly. "Can’t wait to be inside you, baby"
✩ 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨
He could seem a tall cute baby boy, but in reality he perfectly knows he's a fucking horny man. who goes crazy everytime you wear short skirts and accidentally reveal him the under cheeks of your ass, he immediately develops the need of pin you at the wall and finally feel how good your pussy can take him, despite you looked too innocent to be able to do it. (You looked). You walk towards the living room, wearing only your underwear and one of his sweaters. you lay on the couch on your stomach and start watching tv, after some minutes, you hear your boyfriend walking in and suddenly stop. You shake your head, chuckling: "Stop staring at my ass, man" You hear him gasping from behind, he clears his throat coughing: "uhm... i wasn't..." you turn yourself, laying on your back, staring at him while a smirk took its was into your face: "why don't you just take your girlfriend and mark her?" he doesn't say anything, his body's blocked. "i noticed how you keep staring at me with those pretty eyes" you keep saying. he quickly reaches you, his body on top of yours, his hands wrapping around your waist: "i want you so fucking bad baby" you shake your index finger to him: "you should ask for it first" you tease him. "please let me fuck your pretty ass"
✩ 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠
Yeosang has never showed you that side of him, which it quite surprised you, being a grown man just like others. You even thought that he wasn't physically attracted by you, what a silly, he is just a shy guy and he isn't certainly as innocent as you thought. You're walking through the hallway of your apartment, but suddenly stop when you hear weird noises coming through the bathroom. You bring your ear closer to the door, what you can hear now is something that seem apparently a squelching sound. Your breath stops as you figure out what is happening in there, you're about to ask at Yeosang if he's okay, but you can clearly hear is voice now booming inside the room: "Fuck- o-oh God, mmpphh fuck! wanna feel that tight pussy..." you wide your eyes, your mouth hangs open from hearing how hot his moans sound. "Ah... y/n.. f-fuck oh fuck! So close! Working this dick so well... shit!" you can tell that he's speeding up his pace by hearing clearly every single nasty sound he makes while stroking his cock. You can't contain yourself anymore: you shut the door open, finding your boyfriend sitting on the toilet while jerking off. He gasps, his heavy breath making his chest widen intensely, he looks at you with a mist of shame, fear and neediness to finish what he started. "What the fuck Yeo? I'm right here, why didn't you fuck me instead??" without even waiting for him to say anything you undress yourself and sit on his lap, taking his length at once inside you. He moans loudly your name, barely looking at you because already too fucked out. "Gonna let you know how good my pussy feel"
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#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez#ateez hard thoughts#ateez povs#ateez smut#ateez fic#ateez hard hours#ateez x reader#ateez yeosang#yeosang smut#yeosang scenarios#ateez hongjoong#hongjoong smut#hongjoong scenarios#ateez seonghwa#seonghwa smut#seonghwa scenarios#ateez yunho#yunho smut#yunho scenarios
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Lying in your arms, so safe and warm
Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Summary: After spending Father’s Day with Andy’s son and your newborn daughter, you'd like to give him one last gift once you're alone, but maybe you're not ready yet. (Longer version of this ask I answered in June.)
Warnings: Talking about SEX
Word count: ~800
a/n: We’re celebrating Father’s Day in October and we're gonna like it damnit!! This is ~technically~ part of this series, but can be read alone.
It’s your first night alone in nearly three months.
Jacob so graciously offered to take Evren for the night after the long day the four of you had and neither you or Andy could object to that.
It's late now. Andy thinks you're in the bathroom getting ready for bed, your usual routine.
He’s talking out loud as he strips his own clothes off in search for something comfier.
“It's so quiet here without Evie,” he chuckles, shaking his head to himself. “I don't think I remembered what this was like… I know it's only been a few months, but—”
When the bathroom door opens, he looks over his shoulder and short circuits stops mid-sentence as he watches you walk into the room.
“Wow…”
Evidently, he forgot how to pick his jaw up off the floor.
His eyes follow from your soft smile, down your body, admiring the silk and lace cami and shorts set that you haven't worn since before you were pregnant.
He used to joke it's one of his favorites because it's easy to slip off of you.
His eyes come back up to meet yours as you step toward him.
“You talk too much for me to remember the quiet, by the way,” you quip, having heard his every thought albeit the door separating the two of you.
You lean in to kiss him and he laughs against your lips, pulling you closer.
“What are you doin’?” He mumbles, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face. “Hm?”
Pulling away enough to look at him, he doesn't miss the teasing glint in your eyes.
“Didn't think I'd let Father’s Day end without giving you one more gift, did you?”
You don't have to ask him twice—or at all—to get in bed with you.
It's like he's a step ahead of you, blindly moving closer to the bed to pull you down with him.
“Andy,” you laugh, landing on top of him.
Your fingers brush through his hair as his lips meet yours again. The kisses are deeper now, slower and more breath-taking — ones you feel like you haven't had time for in ages.
He's sure as hell not going to complain if making out is all you do tonight, but he has an inkling you had a plan for more.
However, he knows your body and he can tell you're not completely relaxed. He’s well aware it's been a while and rushing you is the last thing he wants to do, but he can feel you're holding back.
To see if it's a matter of needing him to take the pressure off a little bit and take the lead, he moves the hand he has resting on your thigh up higher, over your hip to push the soft fabric of your top up.
Your heart races even faster than it already is when you feel the warm palm of his hand against your side, his thumb stroking against the skin of your stomach.
The hand you have on his cheek slips down to his wrist to keep him from undressing you any further.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
“It’s okay if you're not ready,” he whispers.
You let out a sad-sounding laugh. “That sounds familiar.”
He said those exact words to you the night after your first date. You froze in bed then too.
He can't help but smile. “I meant it then just like I mean it now.”
“I know,” you sigh, dropping your face to hide against his neck.
He smooths your top back down to cover you, moving on to rubbing your back instead.
“I'm not an animal, honey,” he jokes. “I can go a few months without sex.”
Frustrated with yourself, you let out a deep breath.
“I'm sorry,” you say quietly. “I've never been self-conscious with you… I don't get it. I just wanna feel like myself again.”
“You will,” he assures. “Don't apologize.”
Through the silence that settles between the two of you, he finally feels you relax against him. He can't help continuing his mission to make you feel better.
“I've changed too, you know. I'm no spring chicken…”
“Please,” you scoff. “You're just as sexy as the day I met you. It's not fair.”
“I could say the same about you,” he promises, hugging you tighter.
You sniffle and he feels a twinge in his heart knowing you don't quite believe him right now.
“Sorry,” you exhale, not letting yourself cry. “It's your day and you're the one comforting me.”
“That's what I'm here for,” he whispers. “Always.”
Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby
#andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x you#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfiction#andy barber smut#a great mentor series
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Lessons in Love.
Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings - None
Word Count - 3615
Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x
Masterlist. Requests.
“No way. How is that even possible?”
You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.
“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.
“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”
The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.
You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.
Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.
A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.
“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”
Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.
You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.
The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.
You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.
⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵
When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.
The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.
And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.
Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.
He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.
“Hi.”
Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.
“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.
“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”
You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.
It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.
You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.
He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.
“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.
“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.
You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.
You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.
“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.
“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.
“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”
You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.
“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.
“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.
Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?
He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.
He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.
“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”
Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.
“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.
He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.
At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.
Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.
“Bucky,” he murmurs.
You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.
“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.
“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”
You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.
You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.
“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.
“There’s more than one kind of milk?”
Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.
“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”
He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.
“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”
She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.
You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.
“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.
“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”
No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.
Instead, he answers cautiously.
“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.
“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.
Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.
“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.
You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.
Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.
“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.
“What, me?” you tease.
“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.
“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.
“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.
“Why don’t we do it together?”
A pause. He’s confused again.
“Do what together?”
“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”
It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.
You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.
“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”
Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.
“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.
“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”
He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.
You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.
“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”
He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.
“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.
⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵
You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.
Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.
“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.
You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”
He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.
You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.
Underneath your name, only one thing is written.
I love you.
You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,
“You do?”
That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.
“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”
You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.
“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”
He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.
“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.
He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?
You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.
He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.
Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –
“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”
I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes smut#marvel#marvel mcu#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#marvel x reader#reader insert#fanfic#fanfiction#marvel fanfic#fluff#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#winter soldier#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier fluff#bucky barnes x oc#marvel x oc
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Of broken promises..
Genshin Men, completely forgetting about your birthday
Characters included: Xiao, Cyno and Childe
Summary: Your special day was just around the corner. You were very ecxited about it, since your boyfriend told you he had something very special planned for you. But things turned out different than you had expected..
Content (Warnings): Angst; Hurt/no comfort; established relationship; characters may be slightly ooc; misunderstandings; gender neutral reader; not proof read yet
Read Part 2 here
Word Count: 4.2k
I was in the mood for some angst, so now here I am, writing this and taking you all with me. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to drama and hurt, but I find it easier to write than fluff and other stuff. As always, feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made, I very much appreciate it!
Well then, I hope you enjoy reading this little piece I brought you all!
Xiao
Your relationship with Xiao was still very much in the beginning stages. It was all tender touches and soft words, as to not scare your boyfriend away from all these new emotions and situations that he was experiencing. You didn’t mind it though. You went into this relationship, knowing that you would have to take things very slow with him. Probably slower than you ever had, but in your eyes, it was a good thing.
It gave you both the opportunity to really get to know each other, not just on a superficial level. Your first kiss happened three months into the relationship and it was also at this point, that Xiao acknowleged his feelings for you though it was still difficult for him to initiate any sort of affection. He didn’t flinch away from you anymore though when you tried to cuddle or hug him, so in your book, that was a huge success already.
Cue now, a few more months into the relationship, almost going for a year now, and your birthday was just around the corner. Xiao knew about it, how the mortals celebrated the day of ones birth every year, though he never thought anything of it. But since it was important to you, he not only made the effort to remember the date, but also plan something for you, so you could really enjoy that day.
He did need to get some help though, since he had absolutely no idea what would be an appropriate thing to do and what wouldn’t be. Don’t mention it to him afterwards though, or he might get moody with you again.
You were currently getting ready for your big day. Xiao refused to tell you, what you were going to do. He didn’t even give you a hint. The only thing he told you to do, was to dress up a little bit, which you gladly took the opportunity to do, since you don’t usually get the chance to do that very often.
After one last look in the mirror once you were done, you went to sit down at your table, feeling giddy and excited. Hundreds of thoughts running through your mind at once, trying to figure out what his plans for today were. As you waited for Xiao to pick you up, like he told you he would do, you noticed that quite some time already went by. He should have been here half an hour ago...
Normally, you wouldn’t think much of it, everyone could be late sometimes. But this was Xiao. He was never late for anything, so of course you began to worry as you noticed this.
“Xiao?”, you called his name and waited for a few seconds, hoping that he just had the wrong time remembered. But nothing happened. Your boyfriend didn’t magically appear right in front of you like he usually did when you spoke his name.
Your gut feeling told you that something wasn’t right. But you swallowed that feeling right down, trying to calm yourself down by reasoning.
‘Maybe he is just getting ready himself, no need to worry.’
‘Surely he is just finishing up some last preparations.’
You tried to find every possible reason for why he could be late and not appear at your call, but as you tried again and again to call his name, he still didn’t show up. Your heart began to feel heavy as worry settled deep within you. Something really must have gone wrong.
You pondered for a long time, trying to figure out what you could do now. But after some time with no real success, you just couldn’t take it anymore. Without wasting another second, you grabbed a few important things and then went straight to Wangshuu Inn, hoping to find him there. Praying, that everything was okay.
It took you some time to get there, but once you arrived, you wasted no time, going straight to the balcony your adeptus boyfriend usually kept for himself.
“Xiao!”, you called again once you arrived, but still, nothing happened. You looked around, trying to see if you could spot him anywhere near, again, without success. Desperation settled into you, as you went downstairs, to where the Innkeeper was located.
“Excuse me, Verr... have you seen Xiao today?”
“Xiao?”, she repeated, then thinking to herself for a few seconds. “No, I’m sorry. Last time I saw him was yesterday morning. He said he had something to take care of.”
“Oh, I see.... thank you.”, you murmured, not sure how you were supposed to feel or react to these news.
You wrecked your brain, trying to think if he had mentioned something the days prior. But if he did, you didn't remember it. Verr looked at you with something close to pity in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again just as quickly, obviously changing her mind about it. Sad and defeated, you made your way back to your house at Liyue Harbour, not sure what you were supposed to do now.
Should you search for your boyfriend? After all, he could be hurt out there somewhere. Then again, you had not even the faintest of idea where to begin with your search. Then, should you just wait here for him to return? But it was still Xiao you were talking about here. He could be gone for anytime between an hour and an entire week. Or, and you absolutely didn’t like that thought at all... he could never return.
What if something bad happened to him while on this mission he never told you about? Was that the reason why he never said anything to you? Because he knew that he wouldn’t make it back? But that would be ridiculous. He wouldn’t have made so many plans with you and talked so much about your shared future with you if he knew he wouldn’t live to see it.
All of these thoughts that came crashing in your mind, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You forgot all about your stupid birthday, you just wished to have your partner right here next to you again, safe and sound.
That night, you cried yourself to sleep, praying to all the Archons out there, that he would come back to you in one piece. That Xiao would be fine. It was all you would ever wish for.
...
The next day you woke up to a cold bed. A clear indicator that he hadn’t returned in the middle of the night and spent it next to you. And also a harsh slap in the face with the cold reality. You struggled to get yourself out of bed or to get yourself ready, but you managed. Once you were done, you thought about your options, what you could do.
You decided that your best course of action for now would be to go to Wangshuu Inn again today. Just to be on the safe side and see for yourself if he returned. So, you did just that, setting out again while sending a small little prayer to the Archons again.
The walk to the Inn seemed longer this time around then it did yesterday. Maybe because you weren’t in such a rush to get there as you were yesterday. You were still defeated once you arrived, slowly walking up the stairs and pass Verr again, who only looked at you with a knowing gaze and tried to give you a reassuring smile. You found it hard to respond, so you just avoided her gaze and made your way up to the balcony again.
To your surprise, you saw Xiao standing by the handrail, his gaze fixed at something in the distance, but you were sure that he noticed the presence of someone coming up the stairs. Still, you were in shock how casual he was just standing there.
“Xiao?”, you spoke, and the shock was clearly heard in your voice. Your boyfriend turned around and looked at you, while you were also frozen in place a few steps away from him.
“What?”, was the cold reply you got, which only threw you off even more. Why was he being this way to you? Shaking that thought out of your head again, you quickly walked up to him.
“What do you mean ‘what’? I was worried about you! Where were you?”
“Why were you worried? You know of my duty to protect Liyue. I have been away for longer than one single day. And as far as I know, we weren’t supposed to meet up.”
You were taken aback, staring at him as if you were asking him with your eyes to please tell you that he was only joking. But that was the problem.. Xiao never joked, about anything.
“But.. we were. Yesterday was-”
“Y/N, please, leave it for now. I am not in the mood today.”
“But Xiao, yesterday-”
“I said, leave it. I had something important to do yesterday. Something more important than whatever silly little thing you have come up with to bother me! I’m not in the mood for your antics today, so just don’t bother. Leave me alone.”
You took a step back as you heard his harsh words. For a second, you thought you saw something like guilt shine in his eyes, but it was quickly washed away by the cold expression he now wore.
You were hurt. He had never said anything like that to you, you weren’t sure how to react. So you did the only thing you could think of.
Without another word or glance at him, you turned around and granted him his wish. His wish for you to leave him alone.
________________
Cyno
Cyno had many responsibilites as the General Mahamatra. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be gone for a whole week - sometimes even longer - for a mission. He could never tell you much about his work or current mission, until it was over, as to not endanger you or himself. But once the deed was done, he told you all about it, about everything that he experienced.
When he was gone for so long, the first thing he would always do was to find you, trap you in his arms and cuddle with you for hours on end. Not many people would think this of him, but Cyno was a very affectionate lover. He thrieved on physical contact, no matter if it was just holding your hand of if he could hold you in his arms.
To him, you were the most important thing in his life, second to nothing else. Sometimes, he resented his position as General Mahamatra, especially if it was preventing him from spending time with you for an extended period of time. But it was also his calling, he felt.This position was so important to him, and you knew that as well. You learned to deal with it, and Cyno was so grateful for it.
He didn’t know many people who could put up with a busy partner as himself for such a long time, but you two managed. That’s why, as a way to show his gratitude towards you, he put so much effort into your relationship. He was never late for anything, be it a date or just something trivial. He made an effort to remember every important date, be it for anniversaries or a birthday date. In all of your years with Cyno, although you did have your ups and downs, it was overall the best relationship you ever had.
And that is exaclty why the current situation hurt you so much.
...
You were having dinner with your boyfriend, already feeling a little giddy as your birthday was just a week away and you were excited to see what Cyno had in store for you this year.
Except, it came entirely different.
“I have to leave for a mission tomorrow. It’s a very important one, so expect me to be gone for about two weeks.”
You froze when you heard those words. Surely, you must have misunderstood.
“What?”, you said, not really being able to process this new information. And it didn’t help that Cyno simply repeated what he had said.
Was he making a joke again? That had to be it. Surely, he would never forget about it.
“You’re.. leaving? But, what about-”
“Y/N, please. It’s a very important mission. I can’t just let anyone handle this. It has to be me. You have to understand.”
So, he really wasn’t joking. You just looked at him, while he continued eating like nothing has happened, completely unbothered. Suddenly, you were not feeling hungry at all, so you just got up and left the table.
“Darling?”, Cyno called after you as you went in the living room, not sure what else to do with yourself at the moment. Cyno continued to look after you, trying to figure out what could be wrong with you. He wrecked his brain but when he couldn’t come up with a solution, he just shrugged it off and continued with his meal. He would deal with it once he was done eating.
Meanwhile, you were sitting on the couch, deep in your thoughts. You were trying to come up with a solution, a scenario in which Cyno could still spend your birthday with you. You didn’t want to spend it without him, you have never done that since you got in this relationship with him and you definitely didn’t want to start with it now.
You had no idea how much time had went by when you suddenly felt the arms of your lover wrap around you as he sat down next to you.
“What’s wrong, my dear?”, he asked, his crimson eyes fixed on you.
“Just... thinking.”, you said, as you were not able to come up with an idea until now.
“Thinking about what? Tell me, maybe I can help.” That did sound like a good idea, so you obliged.
“It’s about that mission of yours. I was just thinking-”
“Y/N”, Cyno let out with a long, frustrated sounding sigh. “There’s nothing I can do about it. Can’t we just forget about it for now and just cuddle a bit. You know I’m gonna miss you.”
“So you can just go and disappear in the morning before I’m even awake? No Cyno, I wanna talk about it now. Because you’re forgetting something important.”
“I am not forgetting anything. Right now, the only important thing is this mission. I can’t tell you about it, but just know I have to be the one to take it.”
You were getting frustrated as well. He was just not giving you a chance to explain yourself.
“That’s not what I mean, Cyno. I know YOU want to take that mission, and that’s fine. But there is something else you should remember. What I’m trying to tell you is-”
“Listen, I don’t wanna argue right now. If you can’t handle this, maybe it was a mistake to get in this relationship with you.”
You froze when he said that, staring at him, unmoving. Was that really how he felt? Like all this was a mistake? That YOU were a mistake?
Cyno waited for a response from you for a few seconds, but when nothing came, he sighed and stood up, collecting a few neccessities he would need on this trip.
When he passed the living room again, he saw you still standing there. “I changed my mind. I’m leaving today. Maybe the time apart will help the both of us to figure something out and reflect on us.”
With that said, he went for the door and you heard it fall into place again once he had already left.
So that was it? He just left, basically telling you that your relationship might be ending when he returned? And that was when the dam in you broke and tears started to stream down your face. You broke down were you were standing, clutching your chest in hope to ease the burning pain you were feeling inside but of course, it didn’t help.
What a way to spend your upcoming birthday.. anticipating the end of your relationship with the man of your dreams..
__________________________
Childe (Ajax)
Being in a relationship with a harbinger was simultaneously the best and worst decision in your life.
Childe was a very sweet and caring lover, although sometimes slightly overprotective. You’ve spoken to him about it many times, but after only a week or so, he completely forgot about it again and went back to his old ways of guarding you like a hawk.
People in Shneznahya knew about you and your relationship to one of their harbingers, so you were almost as feared as Childe himself, as people were afraid you would talk ill of them to him, which would then result in harm for them.
They didn’t know they had nothing to fear. You were one of the kindest and caring humans that Childe has ever met. It was one of the many reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place.
After he joined the harbingers, he became a frequent visitor in the infirmary, even more so than before. Somehow it was always you who had to take care of him when he was injured again. Most of the time, while you were treating him, Childe was talking about random stuff, throwing in a flirtly remark here and there, but you never paid much mind to it.
Until one day when he showed up there, no injury in sight, so you asked him what he wanted here. And he just asked you on a date.
That was over two years ago and you have been in a relationship with him ever since. Childe was loyal to you, and you trusted him in that, even if he had to travel to many different regions all across Teyvat. He couldn’t always take you with him and the time you two had to spend apart from each other proved to be difficult for both of you.
You also learned very soon that Childe was totally a family person. He took you to meet his parents fairly early on, but you really hit it off with them, getting along quite well with them, and his siblings followed soon. You fell in love with them, and Childe just love seeing you interact with his family. It made him want to get a family of his own with you as soon as possible.
But, no matter how good the relationship was going, there were also always going to be problems along the way. His work was a huge factor, yes, but another huge part of the problem was Childe’s confrontational behaviour. He liked to cause fights, not only physical ones with his enemies, but also with you.
His personality and pride demanded of him to win in every argument you two had, even when he would be in the wrong. Apologizing had never been a strong suit for the ginger, and you knew that. But sometimes, that was all you wanted. For him to seriously apologize and make you his number one priority form time to time.
Because you never were. You knew that Childe loved you with all his heart, he told you that almost every single day. And still, you were only ever his second choice. Because his work would always stay his number one priority.
No matter what it was or how bad the timing would be, if he had another mission, he would already be out the door, barely giving you a kiss to the cheek before he was gone. Sometimes, it was hard. Having to stay behind, not knowing if he would return to you in one piece again.
He promised you to be careful and that he would always return to you, but there was still a chance. A chance that something wouldn’t go as planned and fate would take him from you. In that times of not knowing, you didn’t care how difficult your relationship was if it meant that he was alive and well in your arms.
...
It had been a very stressful week, work has been demanding much from you, both mentally and physically. You were glad when you got home that evening, looking forward to the few days you were able to spend with your boyfriend again.
As if he sensed that you would be done this evening, you found him in the kitchen, preparing a meal for you both.
“Ajax? You, cooking? What’s the occaision?”, you asked, clearly surprised since he rarely cooked, ever.
At that, he just laughed. “What, can’t I spoil my beautiful lover from time to time?”, he asked, giving you a smirk. “Sit down, I’m almost done.”
You did as you’re told, not questioning him any further. You just assumed that it would be a taste for your birthday tomorrow. You haven’t planned much that day, since you never really celebrated your birthday. You would just have lunch with his family at their place and then spend the rest of the day together, doing whatever came to your mind. Maybe his spoiling you today was in preparation for your day tomorrow.
The meal was actually very good, which surprised you, since you only got to taste Childe’s cooking once before today, and that wasn’t exactly his best creation. Your boyfriend seemed to be proud of it himself.
Afterwards, you did the dishes together, before you both went to get ready for bed. Like every night, once you got into bed, he pulled you close to his chest and whispered a sweet “I love you” in your ear, before you both drifted of to sleep.
...
The next morning, you woke up alone in bed. Patting your hand on his side of the bed, you found that it was still somewhat warm, meaning that he got up not too long ago himself.
You managed to get yourself out of bed, before searching for your boyfriend. You find him sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee.
He noticed you coming up behind him, so he turned to you and smiled up at you. “Good morning, sunshine. Did you sleep well?”
You nodded as you went and made yourself your own cup to get your day started properly. You both set in a comfortable silence as you each drank your own drink. Only when you awoke more and more did you notice something strange... normally, Childe would have already showered you in congratulations and presented you with at least a gift or two, but nothing.
Yet, you chose to not say anything just yet. Maybe he had something planned and would do that later in the day.
Once done with your coffee, you got up and went to the bathroom to get yourself ready for lunch with his family. You usually got in the bath first, since you took longer than him, Childe would almost always be done within ten minutes or so.
When it was his turn to get ready, you were waiting for him in the living room, when a knock on the door startled you. You were not expecting any visitors today, but you still went and answered the door.
“Greetings. Would the Lord Harbinger happen to be available?”, was the first thing to greet you once you opened the door. Perplexed, you just nodded and went to turn around, but Childe was already coming down the stairs towards you.
“Babe, everything alright?”
“Yeah.. there is someone for you at the door..”, you said. Not wanting to pry, you went to the kitchen, but you weren’t really able to sit down as just a few seconds later, the door closed again and Childe came in the room.
“I’m sorry babe. An urgent mission. I have to go right now.”
“What? But what about lunch? Your family is waiting for us. And-”
“It’s just a meal with my family. It’s not that big of a deal if we miss it this one time. I’m sure they would understand.”
You were shocked as you heard this. Did he really forget? That today was your birthday? Sure, you never really liked to make a huge deal about it, but at the very least you wanted people to remember it. Was that too much to ask for?
Too caught up in your feelings, you didn’t care how you sounded when you said that to him. “Fine. Go do whatever it is you have to do then, since it’s so much more important. But I’ll go and meet your family since they’re waiting for us.”
With that, you stormed past him, grabbed your coat and went out the door. Childe just stood there, utterly confused on why you were so upset about this. It was just a simple lunch, nothing too exciting about it.
So, he just shrugged it off and went to collect his coat. Then, he made his way to the palace of the Tsaritsa, where he would get the details to his next mission, while his mind was still racing, trying to figure out what went through your head... but he just couldn’t come up with anything.
Couldn’t be something too important if he forgot about it...
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin angst#xiao x reader#xiao x you#xiao angst#cyno x reader#cyno x you#cyno angst#childe x reader#childe x you#childe angst
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School
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You have a bad first day
The school is fancy.
It's private (the only one that Magda and Pernille could find on short notice) and you get put into a fancy uniform.
Magda thinks that a school blazer is too much for such a little girl to be wearing but it was the uniform policy so she bought it. You look incredibly grown up, perhaps too grown up for the little baby that used to sleep in her arms and cry when she hid your dummy.
Now though, she's the one crying.
"Magda," Pernille whispers," Smile. You're going to make her cry too."
Magda doesn't really think you need her help for that. You cling to her hand tightly, scuffing the ground with your fancy new shoes. You flinch every time a child goes past you and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth.
Magda puts on the biggest, fakest smile she can manage and tries to look encouraging.
You give her a weak smile back before shuffling forward and then back towards her again.
"Hallo!" A stern looking woman says from the classroom door.
"Hallo," You whisper back.
Magda stiffens when the woman gives you an odd look. She knows why though. You speak German very well but on certain words, you have the tiniest of accents and it's clear that this woman picks up on it.
Magda tightens her grip on you as Pernille talks to the teacher.
"Hey," She says," I love you."
You look towards the classroom where kids your age are running about and screaming.
"Don't want to," You whisper," Morsa, I don't want to."
"I know," She says," I don't want you too either but we're both going to be very brave and get through today."
"No," You say," No, I don't want to be brave. I want to go home." The little crinkle in your brow appears and your bottom lip wobbles.
"It's okay," Pernille joins you both now, cupping your face and smoothing out your crinkle," Just a few hours and then we'll pick you up and we'll go back to training."
You sniffle. "I want to go to training now."
"I know," Pernille says," But you've got school first."
You huff and look back at the classroom and the stern lady waiting for you.
"The sooner you start school, the sooner you can leave," Morsa promises you and that's enough to get you moving.
Two hours into your school day, you decide that you don't like it at all.
Your classmates are mean and the little boy who sits next to you pulls your hair and spits. It's very gross.
Your teacher isn't nice either. You don't think she likes you either. She's kind of mean and speaks very quickly to you as if to catch you out with something.
Your German is good and Momma and Morsa have been teaching you to read at home but it's a little slower reading in German than your other languages.
You know you can read Swedish and Danish well because Momma and Morsa focus on that at home and you can read English too because sometimes Jessie and Niamh would help you while you sat on the bench with them.
You didn't really have anyone to read German with but you know how to read in your other languages so it's kind of the same and all you need to do is sound out the words.
You don't know why she's picking on you because everyone else is struggling too. It's not your fault.
"We speak German here. Not English," She says a bit spitefully but, strangely, in English when you pass her for breaktime.
That makes an icky feeling appear in your stomach and you sit by yourself at break on the playground.
Your other classmates seem to have picked up on the weird atmosphere your teacher has created around you because nobody comes to play with you.
You've never really had much interaction with kids your age so you're not too sure whether you should invite yourself into someone else's game or wait for them to invite you. You don't want to make people not like you more.
So, you sit at the very edge of the playground and dig at some weeds with a stick. You want to go and play football with the boys but you saw them turn away another girl who wanted to play earlier so you stay far away.
Your day doesn't really get better because after break your teacher is still very mean and she gets an annoyed and somewhat angry look on her face when you burst into tears.
She sends you by yourself to the reception lady, who takes one look at you and gives you tissues to dry your face before calling Momma and Morsa.
The receptionist woman is nice and you wish she was your teacher instead of the mean woman because she shares half her chocolate bar with you while you wait.
Momma and Morsa come quickly, still in their training kits and you burst back into tears all over again.
You curl yourself into Momma and sob. "Don't want to do school anymore," You choke out," Don't make me. No more!"
Momma hushes you softly, tucking you into her so you have some semblance of privacy. She picks you up too as Morsa spits venom at the poor reception lady who, quite graciously, accepts it in her stride.
"So mean," You explain to Momma as you both sit in the car," She's so mean. Momma, she's picking on me." You tug off your blazer and pull at your shirt. "I don't want to go back."
"I know you don't," Momma says," But-"
"No!"
Morsa opens the door and slams herself into her seat in annoyance. "That foul, foul, pathetic excuse for a teacher," She bites out," I told you, didn't I, Pernille? That I got bad vibes off her?!"
"I know, Magda," Momma says quietly," Let's just get back to training and discuss it tonight..." She jerks her head towards you and you know that means this conversation will be had when you're in bed and asleep.
You wish they would include you but you also know that this conversation will be long and boring with lots of adult topics that will probably get confusing.
"Hey," Morsa says, wiggling your knee as Momma starts the car," We're going to head back to training. Your gloves are in your practice bag, if that will make you feel better?"
You nod.
That would make you feel better.
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
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October 14th - quicksilver (smut)
Pairing : peter maximoff x reader
Warnings : MDNI!! DO NOT READ IF YOUR BELOW THE AGE OF 18!!
P in v, unprotected sex, peter talking you through it, no aftercare, human vibrator
A/n: im actually really struggling to write the rest of the fics, this is literally meant to be out tomorrow at the time of writing
DO NOT BLAME ME FOR WHAT YOU CHOSE TO CONSUME, ITS YOUR FAULT IF YOU READ FURTHER
Peters room was the go to hangout area for the two of you. It was usually the right temperature, he'd have a stash of snacks (of which were mainly twinkies), a few warm blankets for those cold nights you stayed over. It was always perfect.
That leads you to this night. Peters head was resting on your lower stomach as both of you were watching some crappy movie, mindlessly playing with the hem of your shorts.
You could feel his shoulder pressing against the one spot that had been aching for him all day. Every shuffle from him, you have to stop yourself from squirming, trying to get more pleasure from it. Surely he doesn't feel the same way.. Right?
"hey, you ok?" you hear peter ask you, your head giving a small nod, adjusting your position. Thats all you needed for a small whine to slip past your lips.
That stupid damn smirk. Of course he has that stupid damn smirk after hearing that.
"what was that noise?" he scoots up, his elbows proping him up so now his face is mere inches away from yours. His stomach putting pressure on the area you needed him to, causing you to squirm slightly.
"..nothing..?" you knew he wouldn't let it slide. His warm breath was hitting your face, his lips oh so close to touching yours.
"bullshit" before you even registered it, his lips were on yours. You couldn't help but kiss back, your hands going to his hair and pulling him closer.
✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭
After a few minuets of making out, he begins to slip your shorts down your legs, kissing your thighs as he did so.
"god... Your gorgeous.." he groans, not waiting a second to rip his sweatpants off. He was so hard it looked painful, it looked like he would rip open his boxers.
With a blur, he's alright inside of you, his lips against your forehead.
"someones excited huh?"
"cant help it that ive waited this long" he chuckles, pressing his lips against yours once more but this time hes slower, beginning to thrust.
He starts of by being gentle, not wanting to use his mutation to its fullest extent just yet. He was pepering you with kisses anywhere he could reach, nuzzling his face between your breasts.
"you dont have to go soft on me, y'know? I can take it" you huff, getting a bit frustrated at the lack of speed from the guy that is literally known for speed.
"sorry princess" he chuckles "just dont wanna hurt ya'"
With that, he begins to speed up, his hands massaging your hips and thighs.
Not even a few minutes later, hes going x10 faster, his face burried in the crook of your neck. You had never thought he'd be the typa guy to whimper but he is definitely disproving you now.
His hips move in a blur, bringing you to the edge way faster than you'd thought.
"... Ugh... Keep doin' that... Please.." you whine, hands pulling his hair and your lips leaving sloppy kisses on his shoulder.
"wasnt plannin' on stoppin'.. M' pretty girl" his nails dig into your hips, his cock twitching against your walls as they begin to close in on him.
"AHG! Fuck... Shit" he grunts, his seed painting your walls white. His thumb sneaks down and rubs your clit, sending you over the edge and cumming around him.
"... Holy shit..." he huffs, his sweaty body collapsing onto yours.
"... That was amazing.." you tell him, only to realise hes fallen asleep cuding you.
A/n : sorry for how rushed and poorly written this is! Jaytober is kinda making me loose motivation especially since i dont have much free time to do it anymore and my mental health just loves to take a head first dive into depression
Thank you so much for reading! <3
#evan peters#ahs fandom#ahs#ahs murder house#american horror story#tate langdon#ahs coven#idk what else to tag#tate langdon x reader#kit walker#kyle spencer#kai anderson smut#kai anderson x reader#kit walker smut#james patrick march#jpm#james patrick march smut#jaytober#jimmy darling smut#quicksilver#quicksilver smut#quicksilver x reader#peter maximoff#evan peters fandom#evan peters fanfic#evan peters ahs#xmen 97#x men movies#xmen#x men
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